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Robbie And Roy


amauiguy

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Originally I wrote this story for the Bearhugger site (www.bearhugger.net).

 

Note: Still figuring out the tags... this story has one guy who is significantly bigger than the other, hence the 'macro' tag. A better tag might be 'size difference' since this is within the realm of plausible sizes. If you're looking for mega giants, they're not in this story.

 

 
Robbie and Roy
 
The afternoon I first met Robbie, I could tell right away that he was special. You might think it's weird for a huge bodybuilder like me to say that about someone as small and scrawny as Robbie, but I swear it was true then, and it still is.
 
I had just finished a fantastic, almost-puke-your-guts-out leg workout, I'm talking massive squats, extensions, curls, you name it. I really pushed myself, and my legs were so wobbly I could barely stand, let alone walk. I was heading home to shower, but it must have taken me ten minutes just to pull on my sweats over my t-shirt and shorts.
 
So here I am, quads, hamstrings, and calves quivering in fatigue, doddering like an old man down the sidewalk. Suddenly out of nowhere from around the corner, this skinny brown-haired kid comes running right into me. He bounced off my bulk and fell to the sidewalk, but my own legs were so unsteady, I land on my ass, too.
 
He pushed his thick glasses back into place, and shook his head and blinked his eyes a few times. Then he realized that he had run into a person. The look on his face was priceless.
 
"Hey, are you ok, mister?" he asked, getting to his feet and rushing over to me, bending down with concern apparent on his face.
 
I started laughing. I couldn't help it. Here was this kid, probably 5'5" or 5'6" maybe 100 pounds soaking wet asking me if I was ok. Did I mention that he's polite, too?
 
Slowly I got to my feet, kind of enjoying the changes of expression on the little guy's face. First he seemed relieved that I could move at all, then happy that I was starting to stand, then puzzled as I rose taller and taller, then totally and completely awestruck when I reached my full height of 6'10". Yeah, I'm a big guy, and I'm used to having people stare at me, but Robbie was so cute, I couldn't help but laugh.
 
"Yes, I'm fine, thanks," I said. I offered my hand, and introduced myself, "My name's Roy, what's yours?"
 
He just stood there, his mouth gaping open, staring at me in wonder.
 
I snapped my fingers in front of his face, you know, the way hypnotists do, and he muttered, "Wha...?"
 
So I held my hand out and introduced myself again.
 
"I'm Robbie," he said softly, reaching out tentatively to shake hands. I think he was afraid I was gonna hurt him or something. He kind of had that deer-in-the-headlights look, especially with those glasses of his.
 
I took his small hand--I swear it seemed so tiny compared to mine, and gave it a firm clasp, but I was really careful not to hurt him.
 
With his eyes practically popping out of their sockets, he said, "Wow, you're huge, Roy."
 
With his tousled hair, he was so damn cute.
 
Believe it or not, not all huge body builders are looking for other mountains of muscle. Muscle is great, but I've always had a soft spot for little guys, especially the types that seemed kind of vulnerable, like Robbie.
 
What sealed the deal with me were the next questions out of Robbie's mouth.
 
First he asked, "How much do you weigh?"
 
At the time I wasn't as big as I am now, but I was honest and told him, "315."
 
His eyes got really big, and then he asked breathlessly, "Can I feel your muscles?"
 
Now, I've gotta tell you, for me, especially at that time, that was the perfect question. Maybe I felt like I needed an ego boost or something, I don't know. But coming from him, and without a hint of fear, I knew he was special.
 
"Sure, Robbie," I said.
 
Before I could say anything more, he reached up to place his small hands on my pecs, and started massaging them.
 
"Whoa!" I said. "Down, tiger."
 
He pulled his hands down and gave me a pouty look, like I'd just taken his candy away.
 
"Robbie, how old are you?" I asked.
 
Sticking up his chin, as if he always got asked his age, he said with a defensive voice, "I'm 22."
 
You can't believe how relieved I was that this baby faced kid wasn't jail bait. Turned out he's a student at the local college. I was 38, myself. I didn't want to take any chances.
 
I let him grope my muscles for a couple of minutes, and we exchanged phone numbers and addresses. It turned out his apartment wasn't far from my house.
 
Then I asked him why he had been running.
 
"Oh crap, I'm gonna be late for class," he exclaimed. "I'll call you later, Roy!" he said, running off.
 
So that was how I met Robbie.
 
Robbie called me early that evening. He didn't mince words, that's for sure.
 
As soon as I answered the phone, he asked, "Roy, can I come watch you pose?"
 
"Sure, Robbie," I said. "I like showing off."
 
"Great!" Robbie said, and immediately hung up.
 
Now was my turn for the "Wha...?" I didn't realize that he meant right that moment. As I often do, I had been lounging around the house naked, so I threw on a pair of gym shorts and a tank top.
 
Sure enough, about ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to a still-panting Robbie. The eager little bugger had run all the way.
 
"Hi, Roy!" he said excitedly, looking me up and down. "That tank top looks great on you! It really shows how broad your shoulders and traps are."
 
His wide grin was captivating. I felt myself wanting to please him, so I struck a double bicep pose.
 
"Oooh!" Robbie exclaimed, reaching up on tip toes to feel them. I bent down a little, so he could reach. Even with both of his hands he couldn't cover them. I pumped my biceps up and down, and could tell he loved that.
 
"I love the way your flexing makes your veins move," he declared.
 
Then he started running his hands over my shoulders and traps, kneading them, or at least trying to. His small hands weren't really powerful enough to dent them.
 
"Can I see your pecs next, Roy?" he asked, pushing his glasses up.
 
"Sure, Robbie, whatever you want," I answered.
 
I grabbed at the bottom of my tank top and slowly pulled it up, revealing my abs first. Of course I tensed and moved them back and forth, eliciting more sounds of contentment and awe from my skinny little worshipper.
 
I continued pulling the shirt off, tossed it onto a chair, and took a deep breath puffing out my chest to the max.
 
Well, it must have been too much for poor Robbie, because I noticed his eyes start to roll back in his head, but I managed to catch him before he hit the floor.
 
He was still breathing, so I wasn't too worried.
 
I cradled him in my arms, thinking how light he felt. My normal bicep workout started with eighty pound dumbbells, so to me he was light as a feather.
 
"Robbie," I whispered, "Robbie," trying to rouse him.
 
His eyes fluttered open, and a huge smile appeared as he looked into my eyes.
 
"You're massive, Roy!" he exclaimed. Then he realized I was holding him, and he asked, "Can you curl me?"
 
I laughed. This kid was a total muscle hound, but I loved it, too.
 
I walked over to the sofa and gently put him down so I could adjust the placement of my hands.
 
"Try to stay stiff," I told him, as I easily lifted him up. Slowly I curled him, then extended my arms, then curled again, over and over. For me it was hardly a work out, but I was getting turned on by the look of utter bliss on his face.
 
"Ah," he sighed. "This is so hot!"
 
"Good, glad you're enjoying yourself," I replied sincerely.
 
"You're like what, 6'8"?" he asked.
 
"Try 6'10", little man," I answered.
 
"Wow!" he exclaimed. "Can you show me your pecs now? I'll try not to pass out again."
 
This guy was cracking me up. I hadn't had this much fun with a muscle worshipper in a long time.
 
I set him down on his feet carefully, and took a deep breath to expand my chest.
 
"I like hairy chests like yours, Roy," he said. "Your pecs are so massive that the hair doesn't hide their size at all."
 
Robbie reached up and put a hand on each of my pecs and started rubbing them, and swirling the hair with his small fingers.
 
I let him indulge himself for a couple of minutes, and then I decided to have some fun. I started slowly bouncing my pecs. First I'd lift one and hold it, then I'd let that one relax and lift the other.
 
"Oh, yeah!" Robbie declared enthusiastically.
 
You'd think Robbie had just been given a puppy for Christmas or something from the look of delight on his face, especially when I increased the speed of the bouncing.
 
I closed my eyes, and tilted my head back, enjoying the sensations of his hands on my pecs.
 
Well, Robbie wasn't about to stop his exploration, and that was precisely the time he decided to see whether my nipples were connected to anything.
 
"Yow!" I yelped in surprise.
 
With a devilish look, Robbie peered up at me to see if that was a yell of surprise or pain. Quickly determining it was the former, he set to work on my nipples with a vengeance.
 
I'm sure I must have been moaning in pleasure then, but I don't really remember. Let's just say that my nipples definitely are wired, and they run directly to my cock, which was soon fully erect, and quite obviously visible pressing against the light cloth of my gym shorts.
 
Robbie knew the effect he was having on me, and he loved it.
 
"Looks like you're flexing another muscle, Roy," he snickered.
 
I was actually close to shooting my load, so I decided to distract him. I reached down, put one hand on each side of his narrow torso, and then extended my arms, lifting him up in front of me. My house has 12' ceilings, so I lifted him up as far as I could.
 
"You're really strong, Roy! This is fun," he exclaimed.
 
By now it was clear to me that anything involving muscles and manhandling him would probably excite this skinny kid.
 
I lowered him a bit, so that the fly of his jeans was at the same level as my mouth. I could feel the length of his stiff cock sticking up in his pants. Pressing against the fabric, I breathed hot air against his boner. He giggled and twitched.
 
Then I brought him down against my chest, wrapping my arms around him. He felt so tiny.
 
"Oh, yeah, Roy! I love bearhugs. Squeeze me, squeeze me hard," begged my little muscle worshipper.
 
I knew that I would crush him if I squeezed too hard. I also knew that I'd be able to make him cum if I squeezed just hard enough.
 
I pulled him firmly against my furry pumped up pecs, and flexed my big biceps along his sides. Slowly I pulled my forearms toward my chest, just a bit at first. Enough so that he could feel the security of being held in my arms.
 
That was when I leaned my head down and kissed him on the forehead, and whispered, "You're special, Robbie."
 
He tilted his head up and looked into my eyes and said, "Thanks, Roy. In case you didn't notice, I think you're special, too."
 
Then, as I've since grown used to, he broke the romantic mood by taunting me, "You aren't squeezing very hard."
 
I laughed and bounced him up and down in my grasp.
 
"Wait as sec, let me put these down," he said, taking off his glasses.
 
I took them from him and placed them carefully on the table.
 
"Ok, crush me, Roy!" he commanded.
 
Gradually I tightened my hold around him. I wanted him to enjoy it, so I went very slowly. At first giving him a taste of being wrapped up in solid muscle. I started squeezing a little more. He was still breathing regularly, but he was not able to draw in quite as much air with each breath.
 
"These big arms are crushing you now, little man."
 
I continued to compress his torso, loving the way it felt to embrace his skinny little body. He had his eyes closed, and a big smile on his face as he endured my bearhug, his feet dangling high off the floor.
 
"I know you like my pecs. I'm gonna show you just how big they are."
 
I inhaled deeply, expanding my huge chest against his narrow one, forcing him to exhale from the pressure of it. Then I exhaled allowing him to take another breath, and then I inhaled again to force his out.
 
"My muscles are in control of your every breath."
 
Even through his pants, I could tell he was getting aroused by this.
 
"Crushing the breath from you..."
 
I pulled my arms a bit tighter, tensing and relaxing my biceps rhythmically against his sides.
 
"Tighter, and tighter, little man..."
 
He was close to shooting. His breaths were shorter and shorter. With each breath, he was taking in less air than before.
 
"Squeezing you..."
 
I listened, as his breath went in, then out, then in, then out. He was on the verge of climax. It was time to squeeze him over the edge. On the next breath out, I squeezed just a bit harder, forcing the remaining air from his lungs, and then I held him like that.
 
"Nighty, night!"
 
His body went rigid, his bony hips thrusting against my abs as he shot his load.
 
I slowly loosened my grip around him, so he could breathe again, and carried him over and gently laid him down on the sofa to recover. As he lay there, I thought about how sweet he looked, and how I'd do anything to please him.
 
We've been together for a few years now. With his encouragement, and the motivation I get from his near constant worship, I'm close to 400 pounds. That makes both of us very happy.


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Yay for "Size Difference!" I think it ought to be a tag since, you're right, it's not really about macro / micro stuff.

 

Also, in case you're interested:

 

http://xcomp.tumblr.com

 

That's my Big and Not-So-Big tumblr for big guys and their usually (but not always) much smaller friends.

 

-- RPJ

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Thank you amauiguy for posting this story here. I loved your other stories too at bearhugger. I would love to see more plausible size difference fiction here at the new forum. Wrestling themes are hot but would also love pure admiration, comparisons, humiliation and dominance - but all in good fun. 

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Thanks, for the kind words and encouragement! While I have no plans to continue with Robbie and Roy (it was meant to be a stand alone), I have a few other ideas for stories suitable for this forum.

 

The problem I have is not coming up with the ideas, it's actually getting through the process of writing the entire story. I really try to get into my characters' heads, and when I do that, I get, umm..., distracted. Know what I mean? ;)

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